


Episode Tag: Parents' Nightmare

by MrWednesday



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Episode Tag: s16e22, Lazy Baseball References, M/M, Trivial Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 16:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5340188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrWednesday/pseuds/MrWednesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had started that morning, when he’d woken to his phone vibrating obnoxiously against his keys.  He’d drowsily grabbed at it, pulling up a picture of the sun rising over ludicrously blue water, colorful boats dotting the foreground, with the message attached: "It’s beautiful here." It may have been meant as a dig - Haha, I'm daydrinking in a cabana while you're chasing down the most convoluted he-said-she-said-the-nanny-said custody ploy New York's ever seen - but Sonny just texted back "show me more".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Episode Tag: Parents' Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little episode tag I wrote after Parents' Nightmare while wondering what workaholic Barba was doing fucking off to the Caribbean in the middle of the week. In May. He is a ridiculous man, and very dear to me. It's been sitting in my drafts folder for ages, and has been posted here largely unedited, so drop me a line and let me know if I switch tenses halfway through or something. I haven't written these boys before either, so feel free to kibitz on that as well. This fandom's so good for sweet little oneshots, so I thought I'd finally post this and throw another one on the pile.

“Jeez Carisi, that thing’s been buzzing all morning. When did you get so popular?”

Sonny jumped, dropping his phone onto his desk and failing spectacularly to wipe the squirrely _Who me?_ expression off his face. “Eh, just a friend who's got the day off, decided to bug all the poor suckers who had to go to work today.”

“A friend, huh?” Amaro leaned back in his chair and exchanged a look with Rollins that just about screamed _Bullshit._

“That's what I said, isn't it?”

Amaro nodded in mock understanding but was barely suppressing a smile. “Sure man, I hear you. Don't want to jinx it while it’s still early days.” He mercifully let it go and went back to digging through DCS paperwork. Sonny chanced another peek at his phone, only to yelp and tuck it against his chest when he felt Fin leaning over his shoulder to take a look. “Go on, all a ya’s,” he scolded, batting the other detective away. With the subtlety and grace befitting an officer of his training, Sonny scurried over to the break room to refill his coffee and check his texts away from prying eyes.

It had started that morning, when he’d woken to his phone vibrating obnoxiously against his keys. He’d drowsily grabbed at it, pulling up a picture of the sun rising over ludicrously blue water, colorful boats dotting the foreground, with the message attached: _It’s beautiful here_. It may have been meant as a dig - "Haha, I'm daydrinking in a cabana while you're chasing down the most convoluted he-said-she-said-the-nanny-said custody ploy New York's ever seen” - but Sonny just texted back _show me more._ He didn't have the energy to be jealous. It was nice to know someone was having a good time. And yeah, maybe the fact that Barba was thousands of miles away and still thinking about Sonny first thing in the morning had him feeling a bit gooey inside. So sue him. He was still getting used to Rafael’s sweet side, or at least having it directed at him.

Throughout the day he'd received views of the sun glinting off open water, shots of wooden tables bowing under the weight of all the booze and swanky nibbles that such a highfalutin WASP-y destination wedding required. Some kind of sculptural display of tropical leaves and fruit made it hard to tell where the centrepiece ended and the food began. Sonny would never take first crack at a buffet like that - it would inevitably end in some kind of Pretty Woman-esque mishap where he ended up eating nothing but garnishes and trying to drink some exotically spiced dipping sauce. No thanks.

When his phone pinged later in the afternoon, Sonny'd been shooed out of the way so they could prep the van for surveillance at Sam Farhidi’s restaurant. Leaning against the side of the garage, he was glad there was no one around to see his face, because _ai, papi, me gusta._ Rollins and Amaro were grabbing a bite to eat before things kicked off, and the tech guys didn't care what he was doing so long as it didn't involve him trying to touch their equipment to find out what buttons do. So he had the luxury of opening up the photo and just sort of breathing heavy for a minute or two. It was clear from the angle that Rafael had taken it himself, which Sonny appreciated – he didn't seem the selfie type, but he'd taken this one for Sonny. In Rafael’s other hand was something violently blue with an unwieldy carved fruit garnish that was about half the size of the drink itself. He evidently hadn't shaved since he'd left New york - _nice_ \- and his smile was teasing but fond.

He started typing before he let himself think about it - _Any way you could hold off shaving until we see each other again?_ \- and he’d actually sent that, shit, talk about tipping your hand – he could just imagine Rafael cocking his head to the side, giving him a shrewd look that got right under his skin. But the response came back almost immediately. _That sounds possible._ Rafael was clearly laughing at him, but Sonny was busy congratulating himself for not doing a little dance behind a surveillance van. Rafael was scheduled to return on Sonny’s day off - so they’d have one day together before Barba needed to neaten up and go back to the office. And he could work with that. He was going to get to feel that bristle against his cheek, his neck, his mouth, maybe his _thighs._ Aw yeah, score 1 for the home team.

“What are you smilin’ at Carisi?”

Ah. Sonny coughed and slid his phone back into his pocket. Back to work. “Mets batting averages are looking up.”

Rollins gave him a doubtful once-over. “If that’s the look you get on your face when you're just thinking about preseason stats, remind me steer clear of you during the World Series.”

By the end of a night spent crouched in a van, Sonny could feel his smile beginning to wear at the edges. The Farhitis really needed to get their act together, and he needed to be headed home ASAP if he was going to make it to his computer by the time Rafael had agreed to call. Sonny was pretty surprised he’d agreed to it at all, willing to break away from the highlife - drinking on the sand with glittering conversationalists, exchanging witticisms over shrimp canapés or whatever the hell these people got up to - to blow on the embers of this shiny new thing between them.

When he finally back at his apartment, Sonny let his door bear his weight while he jangled his sticky keys. His sister Gina has told him to visualize success in order to manifest his dreams - she was on a 'mindfulness' kick, he tried not to judge - so he'd visualized a case that wrapped up on time, not annoying his coworkers to the point where they dropped all their paperwork on his desk, and getting home with time to shower, eat, change, and spend 40 minutes trying to look nice without looking like he'd tried at all before Rafael called. It had been optimistic, sure, but the path of fledgling relationships never did run smooth, and he was thankful to be home at all.

He considered trying to tidy his room a bit, but didn't want to wait, and resolved to sit close enough to the screen to block any view of the room behind him. Now that it was nearly time, the strain of the day was starting to trickle away and adrenalin began prickling at the back of his neck. Things with Rafael were new enough between them that he still got embarrassingly jiddery in the lead up to their meetings out of work - Hell, even calling him _Rafael_ still felt like getting away with something. He checked the time and swore under his breath, quickly swapping out his work shirt for a clean Fordham tee, and grabbing some oranges on the way to his laptop. He had a fleeting worry for smiling at Rafael with his teeth full of pulp, but figured that would hardly be a new low. The shiner he’d had for a week after the Superbowl bust came to mind. As skype began to load, Sonny caught his reflection in the screen and spent a few panicked seconds running a hand through his hair and wishing he'd washed his face, and then it was too late.

The call connected but Rafael was distracted, still talking to someone out of shot, so Sonny slumped over his desk and took a few seconds to compose himself. Rafael looked good. Really... good. He looked tan, relaxed, and casual as Sonny rarely got to see him. He was working on a third day unshaved, and smiling wide, and it took Sonny a long minute to realize he was being addressed. “Sonny? You there?”

Sonny scrounged for something other to say than “Shit, you're so hot.” Thank god for video chat. There’s no way Rafael could tell Sonny was fixating a bit on his chest, where the top buttons had been left open to reveal a tease of thick tawny chest hair and the faint glint of a golden crucifix. He wanted to press his face right there, slide his hand up underneath the loose linen shirt...This guy was unreal, who the hell could actually pull off muslin? He could picture a little too clearly Rafael's voice washing over him, his breath hot on Sonny's ear, before Sonny leaned in to taste sticky sweet rum and fruit on his full bottom lip... On second thought, maybe it was a good thing Sonny couldn't get the time off to go with him – he wasn’t sure he could keep himself to himself around this warm slightly tipsy, smiling Rafael. And “sexed-up young paramour” wasn't the first impression he was looking to make on Rafi's Ivy League buddies.

Sonny got it together and they chatted for awhile about St Barts and the opulent weeklong wedding, but eventually Rafael waved off Sonny’s jibes about his jet setting lifestyle and turned the conversation back to New York. “How are things there? Getting by without me? I know you haven’t used my absence to usurp my post, Liv would’ve told me.”

“Nah, I got class, when I usurp you I’ll do it to your face.”

Rafael laughed and leaned closer, resting his chin on a palm. “I admire your restraint, Detective. Did the Farhiti case wrap up alright?”

“Eh, the Sarge probably already filled you in on the highlights. But it turns out it was the father that hired the guy. People, ya know? They're lucky nobody got hurt – but scaring their own kid like that?”

“Mmm, I heard you guys struck up a bond – some of that empathy we keep hearing about?”

Sonny laughed “Screw you counselor, I'm great with kids. You just wait til Bella’s bambino drops, I'm gonna be the best uncle any kid's ever had.”

Something rare and sweet swept over Rafael’s face. “I believe that,” he said quietly. Sonny flushed in pleasure and stared at his hands. Is this how Rafael was going to be all the time now that they were getting closer, always knocking his knees out from under him? Sonny was going to be mess if this kept up. Maybe it was the rum?

“I’ll ah, come meet you at JFK. Help you carry your bags. Gotta keep you in the lifestyle to which you've become accustomed, right?”

“Oh, really? And Liv’s going to give you the morning off to carry my bags?”

“Well. I sorta asked for that whole day off. If, you know, you want-” Maybe that was too much? Presumptuous? Rafael was probably going to be come back exhausted, he wouldn't want to entertain Sonny all day.

Rafael hummed consideringly. “Mmm, yes. I dare say I do want. I look forward to it.”

And _that_ was definitely a look Sonny had never seen around the office. It had to be the rum. That’s fine, he would stock up for the weekend - he might only get one day of Rafael in loose, beardy, affectionate vacation mode, here in chilly New York springtime no less, but he was ready to make the most of it.


End file.
